A Message to the Doctor
by michaeljoshuamontoya
Summary: Ace is visited by a person whom she believes to be the Doctor
1. Chapter 1

Message to the Doctor

The once short, cute little man was now a tall and handsome. There were no more safari hats, odd scarves or question mark vests. There were no more umbrellas or funny shoes. His face was younger and tanner. Dark circles surrounded his eyes making him look more menacing. His dark hair hid most of his face. A bit girlish for her taste, but with every regeneration came a new look. He was leaner and held himself in a way that reminded her of a Victorian soldier. She quickly scanned him starting with his grey boots. They were odd in design, with straps of leather and small pieces of metal keeping it together. Connected around his left leg was a holster holding an odd wound. It seemed too big to be a sonic screwdriver, but had a similar design. More holsters ran up his leg carrying different weapons and objects. She never knew her Doctor to be ready for a fight. This Doctor seemed born in a world of war. Over his dressy navy blue was a black armored vest. He laid his dark maroon coat on his lap and draped his leg over his knee.

"Ace," he said in a whisper.

Perhaps it wasn't the same doctor she had known, but she wasn't the same Ace he had known either. She had kept a profile of him since their departure and had tracked a few carnations of him here and there. San Francisco, a man in a Victorian outfit saves the city. The pictures of the man in leather from different time eras who arrives moments before disasters. The mystery man in the brown coat from the London Olympics who carried torch to the stadium. But she had never seen or heard of this Doctor before.

"You're in trouble?" she asked.

A smile crept on his face. He moved his long hair from his face and quickly tied it into a ponytail. He was much more attractive than he was before. She had always seen him as a father figure, but never as a love interest. He looked like he could be a few years younger than her.

"How long has it been for you? What carnation are you on?"

He smiled and shook his head. He looked back over his shoulder, at the old police box standing near her balcony overlooking London.

"Ace?" he said again.

"It's me Doctor," she said with great concern. "It's me."  
She wondered what had happened. Had he regenerated and forgotten who he was? Was she the only memory left in his poor frail mind? Was he just in trouble and in need of a friend? He rose to his feet and stood over her. She felt her heart fluttered as he gently grasped her arms. He leaned in close to her ear. She felt his lips nearly touch her skin and for a moment had to restrain herself from shrieking. She felt his breath on her neck before he whispered,  
"Just no you never had a chance."

She felt a sharp pain in her stomach and suddenly it became hard to breathe. She didn't notice the blade in her until her pulled it from her chest. She felt her legs give out and fell to her knees. She looked up to see him cleaning the blood from his blade with one swipe against his pants. Waves of panic began to overwhelm her. She touched her wound and saw her entire palm covered in blood.

"Doctor?" she whispered.

"I'm not the doctor sweety," he said over his shoulder. His voice sounded tired and frail. There was no enjoyment of what he was doing. This didn't cause him pleasure. "I'm sorry."

He walked into the Tardis and shut the doors behind him. She rolled to her back and quickly began to think of a plan. She couldn't remember where her cellphone was. She could call for help, but knew she didn't have the breath to call out to anyone. She couldn't feel her legs anymore. She felt light headed. Thoughts of her Doctor began to sprout in her memories. She heard the familiar sound of the Tardis.

WHOOOSH. WHOOOOOOSH. WHOOOOOOOOOSH.

She closed her eyes, not knowing who the man was, and what the doctor had done to him.


	2. Chapter 2

Carving the Face of Boe

Jack woke up to find himself strapped to a metal table. He took a moment to look at his surroundings. A console was set up in the center of the room. Around it were gizmos and knobs and levers. A few windows were beyond that, and through it, he could make out planets and stars. A record player was set up just a few feet from him. He could hear someone humming far away. It sounded like...No particular place to go?

"Okay," he thought. "Console in the center of the room. Whacky design. A wooden door as what I assume is an entrance. My host is humming without a care in the world. Where am I?"  
He couldn't remember the exact moment he lost conscientiousness but could remember what was happening. He was on Zinac, third moon from Lumins and was having an argument with a few fellows who didn't like that he had taken them all to the cleaners at a friendly poker game. They had followed him to an alley way when they decided to make their move. He able to get two of them before something happened. But what exactly happened? There was another man who joined in the fight and fought alongside Jack. He would have bought him a beer except the guy...turned on him? Why did he help if his plan was to turn on him in the end? So who was this man?

"DOCTOR!" he screamed.  
The Doctor had changed again. This time, he had taken a darker look. His hair was long and greasy looking. He combed a hand through it and pulled a pair of black goggles over his eyes. He had of course picked a next getup. Dark blue dressy shirt, first couple of buttons undid, black pants, black boots, and...a black leather apron? He looked more mad scientist than Doctor.

"I'm going to be honest," Jack said with a smile. "I've been in this situation before but, never thought I would be able to get into it with you. What changed your mind? New body new...likings?"

The Doctor smiled. He flicked on the record player that began playing some folk tune from the early 1900s. He put on a couple of black rubber gloves and pulled a lever, making the floor beneath them begin to descend into a subfloor.

"Nice," Jack said. "What's wrong? Alien in my stomach. We have no time to get discuss this and you have to save my life right?"  
The floor came to a loud halt. The doctor reached for some things behind Jack before coming face to face with him. In one hand, a power saw of some kind. In the other hand, some sort of sharp medical instrument.

"The man who can't die," The Doctor whispered.

"Doctor?"  
He shook his head. He wasn't the doctor. He wasn't the man who had saved him numerous times. Who was he then. This was definitely a Tardis. Bigger on the inside.

"You wont believe how easy it is to be him," the man whispered. "Just gotta have a blue box."  
"Who are you? What do you want?"  
"I'm going to tare you limb from limb Jack Harkness. I'm going to carve off your face and stick it in a jar and put you in a museum for everyone to look at. Do you know why?"  
"Fuck you."

"Because your Doctor has trouble returning my messages."  
The saw was on. A smile crept on his face. Jack felt his heart racing and tried pulling from his restraints, but it was all useless. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself the best he could. Any moment now he would feel the worse pain of his life. Any moment now, he would be dragged through hell, and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it. Not even his Doctor.


End file.
